


Friction

by skieswideopen



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG1
Genre: Crossover, Established Relationship, Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-04
Updated: 2010-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-08 17:08:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skieswideopen/pseuds/skieswideopen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cam's parents pay him a surprise visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friction

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the sg_rarepairings [2008 Fic Battle](http://community.livejournal.com/sg_rarepairings/43759.html), for the prompt "sticky."

Cam moaned in pleasure as John slid his hand down Cameron's cock and followed it with his mouth. He thrust his hips upward as John settled into a rhythm, and began to think that maybe John hadn't been joking about the properties of the smooth, sweet, lube-like substance that he'd brought back from Pegasus. He'd rolled his eyes at its supposed sensitivity-enhancing qualities—skepticism deepened by John's admission that he hadn't actually tried it himself, but he'd overheard a few marines swear by it, once medical had cleared it as safe for use. But—as John's tongue flicked around the head of his cock and he found himself gasping with far less control than he usually managed—he was willing to concede that maybe he'd been wrong. He began thrusting his hips more insistently, getting closer to climax. Distantly, he heard a sound that registered a moment later as his doorbell. John lifted his head, and Cam groaned, protesting.

"Do you want to get that?" asked John, smirking.

"Hell no!" Cam sat up and kissed his partner roughly, then pushed him back down. John added a little more Pegasus gloop as Cam lay back, and then lowered his head. The doorbell rang again.

"Ignore it," ordered Cam, not moving. He gasped again as John rang his tongue up the underside of his cock and then began taking it into his mouth. On the bedside table, Cam's cell phone chirped. The doorbell rang again.

"Fuck!" Cam opened his eyes and reached for the phone. "Keep going!" he said. He turned the phone around to see who was calling.

"Wait, wait," he said. John stopped and looked at him curiously as Cam sat up and flipped open the phone. "Hi, Mom!" he said. He was trying for cheerful and celibate, and decided it had come out as slightly manic. He tried to dial it down to cheerful yet concerned. "Is everything okay? You don't usually call this early." He paused, listening. "Really? You came out to Colorado Springs for the Balloon Classic? I had no idea you and Dad were interested in hot air balloons. Yeah, sure, I'd love to see you while you're here. Uh huh. You're on my doorstep now." He realized his tone was creeping back to manic, with perhaps a hint of desperation. He decided to give up on cheerful and just focus on neutral. And celibate. Very, very celibate. Which was made harder by the way John was idly tracing lines…."Yeah, no, I'm home, actually. I just…I was reading some classified mission material and wasn't expecting visitors. Yeah, I'll be right there. Just give me a minute." He shut the phone with a click, sighed, and looked down resignedly at the man lying on his bed.

"My parents are here."

John grinned.

"It's not funny. They don't know anything about this, and I really don't think this is the way I want to tell them."

John sat up. "Family's important," he lectured, mock-seriously. "And how can you be really close if you don't talk…." Cam hurled a pillow at him. John caught it adeptly.

"That was different," Cam insisted. "Your brother already suspected. He _asked_ to be introduced to me. My parents are old. Old, and career military, and Baptist. And they don't need to know…."

"What their good little boy is up to on a Saturday morning?" said John, laughing. "I'm not telling. But I'm not hiding in any closets, either. At least not literal ones."

"You don't need to," said Cam. "Just…put on some clothes." He followed his own advice, grabbing jeans and a clean t-shirt, and trotted into the bathroom to wash his hands before hurrying to the front door.

His mother pulled him into a hug as soon as he opened the door.

"I'm sorry we didn't let you know we were coming. It was a last minute trip. We hadn't planned to do anything this weekend, and then Ed and Cheryl…friends of ours from church…they told us what a good time they'd had last year, and well, here we are."

"It's good to see you, Mom." He reached over and hugged his father, careful of the crutches. "Dad."

"Have you eaten yet, Cam?" asked his father. "We were going to grab breakfast on the way in, but then we thought…. Oh." His father stopped. "I didn't know you had company."

"Yeah," said Cam, half-turning to see John standing behind him, dressed—in one of Cam's t-shirts—and with his hair still standing up at gravity-defying angles. "This is a friend of mine, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. He's on leave right now from overseas, so he's been staying here."

"Nice to meet you, John," said Frank Mitchell, stepping around Cam and resting one crutch against the wall so he could hold out his hand.

"Good to meet you sir," said John, shaking his hand. "Cam's told me a lot about you."

"All good things, I hope," said Wendy, holding out her own hand.

"Absolutely," said John, shaking her hand and offering his most charming smile. "I don't think Cam has ever had a bad word to say about either of you."

"We were talking about breakfast," said Frank. "Are you interested?"

"Oh, I think he has other plans," said Cam.

"Not until later. I'd be delighted to join you."

Cam glared at him as they left the house, but John merely grinned and kept up a cheerful stream of chatter with Wendy Mitchell.

Sitting in a booth at his favourite local diner—one where they poured the coffee as soon as you sat down—Cam began to notice that there were certain disadvantages to increased sensitivity. Especially when one went commando in jeans. He was also noticing that, like water-based lube, Pegasus gloop got sticky when it started to dry out. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to reposition himself away from the rough fabric. Unfortunately, the stickiness impeded any discreet movement.

"You okay, Cam?" asked his father.

"Yeah, yeah. Just trying to get comfortable. These seats are a bit uneven." He picked up the glass of water the server had set down for them when they came in. "What are you thinking of ordering?"

"Oh, I think just an egg white omelet. Doctor's been after me to watch my cholesterol." His father made a face.

"I think I'll get scrambled eggs," said John thoughtfully. "And sausage. For some reason I've been thinking about sausage all morning."

Cam choked on his water.

"Are you sure you're all right, dear?" asked his mother.

"Yeah," he said. "Just fine." He kicked John under the table. John looked at him innocently.

"So how have you guys been?" he asked his parents cheerfully. He thought he'd hit cheerful this time.

"Oh, we've been fine," said Wendy. "I've been wanting to get to work on the garden, but spring's been a bit slow to come in this year. It looks like you have lovely weather here, though."

"I like gardens," offered John. "I like the feeling of making things grow with my own hands."

Cam contemplated kicking him again, but decided his parents might notice.

"Watching things grow is very satisfying," agreed Wendy, smiling. "Do you have a garden, John?"

John shook his head. "Not much chance where I am now. The climate isn't really suitable. Too cold. Maybe when I retire."

The server stopped by then to take their orders, and Cam breathed a silent sigh of relief as he ordered his eggs benny. John, true to his word, ordered sausage.

"Are you a pilot too, John?" asked Frank once the server had topped up their coffee and moved on. Cam relaxed a fraction more and tried to ignore the continued friction on sensitive areas every time he moved.

"Yes, sir."

"What do you fly?"

"Anything with a rotor," said John. "Pave Hawk, Apache, Black Hawk, Cobra, Osprey…."

"You've flown an Osprey?" asked Frank, impressed. "What was that like?"

"Complicated," said John. "You need good coordination for that."

"I can imagine. I was always a fixed-wing man myself, like Cam."

"Yeah, Cam's told me a lot about your career."

"And about how it ended?"

"I know you were a source of inspiration for him after his own accident," said John sincerely. Frank smiled.

"We were so relieved when he recovered," said Wendy.

"We all were," agreed John.

"So you knew Cam back then?" asked Wendy. "Where did you two serve together? If you can talk about it."

"Kosovo, originally," said Cam. "John was flying medevac then." He shifted again, subtly. He thought the sensitivity was decreasing, but maybe that was because the stickiness was overwhelming it. He had visions of finding his dick glued to his jeans when he finally got to take them off.

"That must have been a rough tour," said Frank.

"Sometimes," agreed John. "Having Cam around helped with the strain. Great stress relief."

Cam nearly did kick him this time. They hadn't even been sleeping together in Kosovo, for God's sake. Not that Cam hadn't wanted to, and if only he'd known…. He realized that decreased sensitivity might not be such a good thing. The steady, sticky pressure had shifted from painful to ever-so-slightly pleasurable, and the memory of subtly staring at John Sheppard in the officer's club was starting to have an effect.

"He was always very upbeat," concluded John.

"Cam's always been an optimist," agreed Wendy. "Sometimes a little too much so. You should have been him after he optimistically decided that he could jump the creek with his bike at age ten."

"Mom!" protested Cam.

"My father made similar complaints," admitted John with the sardonic smile that Cam always found particularly sexy. He pushed down the urge to shift again.

"What's your father do?" asked Frank.

"He died last year," said John. "Before that, he worked in utilities."

"I'm so sorry," said Wendy. "What about your mother?"

"She died when I was a kid."

"You poor thing! Do you have any family left?"

"He has a younger brother," said Cam quickly. He could already see sympathetic invitations to Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners floating in his mother's eye, and while he liked the thought of having John around for those holidays, he wasn't sure he'd survive a whole weekend of double entendres and veiled comments. And sneaking around like in high school, and yeah, there was some definite swelling with that thought. Ice world, he reminded himself. Cold. Freezing. _Parents._

"Do you get along with your brother?" asked Wendy.

"We've been getting along better recently," said John cautiously. "We didn't talk much for a few years."

"Oh, that's too bad," said Wendy.

"Family's important," added Frank.

"My family didn't exactly approve of my career choices," said John. "We don't have much of a history of military service. But you know, I've developed some close relationships with the people I serve with. I mean, Cam's practically family." Wendy smiled approvingly; Cam stifled a groan.

Their server came back with more coffee and the assurance that their food would be out soon. Cam decided that this was the longest meal he'd ever had. The diner was fast slipping from his favour, unlimited coffee refills or not.

"What are you planning to do with your leave?" asked Frank.

"Oh, I thought I'd hang around Colorado Springs," said John vaguely. "Rest. Relax. Maybe head out to see my brother. Cam's offered to put me up for the whole trip."

"It's good for him to have someone around," said Wendy. "He's alone too much when he's not working."

"Mom!"

"You are, dear. You shouldn't be home _every_ time we call."

"I have a perfectly active social life," said Cam.

"You should take him with you to see your brother," insisted Wendy to John. Cam looked at her suspiciously. John's face twisted in a half smile.

"Oh, he's already met Dave," he said dryly.

Their food finally arrived. Cam sighed silently in relief. Only a little while longer and he'd be able to get out of here—get John away from his parents—and go home. Home, where he could take off his jeans and wash the remainder of whatever it was off of….

John moved over slightly, so that their thighs were pressed together. Cam glanced at him, but John had his head bent over his food, carefully slicing his sausage. Heat leaked through his jeans and into Cam's leg, the warm, firm pressure prompting thoughts of…no thoughts, he told himself firmly. Nothing swells, nothing gets hard, and there are no thoughts. He looked across the table to see if his parents had noticed anything, but they too seemed consumed with their food. He took a bite of his own breakfast—the best eggs Benedict he'd found in Colorado Springs. The sensitivity level in his groin seemed to be holding steady at mildly pleasurable. He made himself focus on his food.

"Will you still be around next week, John?" asked Wendy.

"Mmm hmm."

"Because Cam's birthday is coming up."

"Mom!"

"Well, you never tell people, dear. And I really think…."

"I get out lots," said Cam. "I have all sorts of friends. Friends who will celebrate my birthday. I promise."

"All right," said his mother soothingly. "I'm sure you do."

Memories of John's birthday floated into his head, both the public celebration and the private celebration afterwards....

Cam stood up abruptly. "Excuse me for a minute." John slid out of the booth and let Cam through. He nearly ran to the restroom, desperate to get out of sight before anything started to show. He claimed a stall in the empty room and unbuttoned his jeans. Yeah, it really was stuck. Not in-need-of-dissolvent stuck, more like too-much-honey-in-unfortunate-places stuck. Carefully he pried himself free, gasping at the sensation of his own hand. He thought about taking the edge off here and slid an exploratory hand down, but the stickiness was a definite impediment. He heard the door to the restroom open—no chance of washing—and shoved himself back into his jeans, positioning his dick for minimal movement and sensation. He flushed, washed his hands, and returned to the table. John was engaging his parents in a discussion of architecture. Specifically, tall buildings.

"The sheer size of the Burj Dubai is impressive," he was saying earnestly. "But size isn't everything. For attractiveness, I like the symmetry of the Petronas Towers."

"What do you think, Cam?" asked his father as he sat down.

"Oh, he likes them big," said John, smirking. Cam contemplated what he could do to John when they got home. Something involving the gloop. And rope. Lots of rope. Or maybe handcuffs.

The meal finally ended. Cam even let his father pick up the check without objection, in order to get them out of their faster.

John slipped away from them at the exit. "Excuse me," he said, nodding toward the restroom. Frank followed. Cam waited restlessly beside his mother, trying not to block the passage of the other patrons.

"He's a very nice man," said his mother.

"Sure," said Cam. Nice wasn't exactly what he was thinking right now, but…

"He seems like he's good for you." Cam froze for a moment and looked over at his mother.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said. _I'm going to kill him._

"Oh, come on, sweetie. You always think we're so old-fashioned, but these things happened when we were growing up, too. I lived through Stonewall."

"Mom…"

"Honey, you haven't brought a girl home since high school."

"Vala," he protested.

"Was clearly not your type."

"And Amy."

"You went out with her twice, and then decided it wouldn't work." Actually, it might have worked—he liked women too, sometimes—if he hadn't started fucking John Sheppard between the first and second dates.

"Mom…"

"And I've seen the way you look at him." She smiled fondly. "You were never good at hiding your feelings, Cam. I know you can't talk about it, Cam. Neither of you. But I'm glad you have each other."

Any other objections he might have raised were cut off by the return of John and his father. His parents—who had insisted on driving—dropped them off at Cam's place after he assured them that he really was too busy to attend the Balloon Classic, but he'd be happy to see them for dinner.

"John, you should join us," added his mother. John smiled. Cam shook his head resignedly and didn't bother insisting that John had other plans.

"That wasn't so bad," said John once the door closed.

"Shut up," growled Cam, pushing him up against the door and kissing him hard. He pulled his head back. "Do you know what this stuff does?"

"Stuff?" asked John.

"The stuff you brought back from Pegasus."

"Oh. It's water-soluble, you know."

"I didn't have time to wash! My parents were on my doorstep!"

"Hmm," said John. He kissed him again. "Well, we should probably take care of that."

"We've got ten hours until dinner," said Cameron, pulling him toward the bedroom. "And I promise you're going to pay for what you put me through."

John laughed. Cam tried to remember where he'd left his handcuffs.


End file.
